


oh, dead ringer, you're so sick

by enbyofdionysus



Series: the self-indulgent fics [9]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Butt Plugs, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, EXCEPT for the kissing part but that's it, Edging, Forced Orgasm, Fucking Machines, Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, Nipple Play, Paralysis, Post-Orgasm Torture, Rope Bondage, Sex Toys, Vibrators, but it's greek mythology so who even really fucking cares, but percy's consenting through the whole thing, but shitty aftercare, monster fucking, there are parts of this fic that are dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 15:58:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18553027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: In all fairness, Percy hadn't expected to walk into a monster's trap on one of his two days off from work. So, really, it wasn't his fault that he ended up tied down to a mattress with two toys in his ass.





	oh, dead ringer, you're so sick

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags before you read this. This fic has some slightly dub-con elements even though Percy's consenting throughout the entire fic.

In all fairness, Percy hadn't expected to walk into a monster's trap on one of his two days off from work. He also hadn't expected a monster who he'd defeated years ago in another city to make their way to New York.

So, really, it wasn't Percy's fault that he hadn't paid much attention to the name of the mattress store or the way the salesman's eyes followed him. He was there to find a mattress for his new apartment because his mom thought it was time he got rid of his old twin bed.

"You're a man, now, miho," Sally had said, "and men sleep on adult-sized beds."

He would've been fine with ordering a mattress off of Amazon if he knew what 'soft' and 'hard' even meant. And so Percy decided he'd pop into the nearest mattress place when he had time to check some out.  
  
Unfortunately, the nearest mattress place on 3rd Ave was a store called Crusty's that failed to ring any alarm bells for Percy whose ADHD made his memory less like a bank and more like a scrambled pile of coins.

And because Percy's memory was a scrambled pile of coins, he didn't think anything of the familiar voice that asked him if he needed any help. He didn't think anything of the salesman hovering near him when he laid down to check out a king-sized bed, either.

It was only when Percy felt restraints abruptly fasten around his ankles, legs, and arms that he realized something was up. Because, hey. Restraints.

"Uh," said Percy. He was a trained hero, after all.

The salesman moved closer into Percy's direct line of sight. He didn't make any move to help. "Well," he said, "look who's back. It seems you won't be able to reach your sword this time, Mr. Jackson."

That got Percy's attention. He zeroed in on the salesman, who he'd chalked up to be Just Another White Guy Named Steve. But now that he looked at him -- _really_ looked at him -- Percy realized that Just Steve wasn't very _Steve_ at all.

Not Quite Steve had a short, blond pompadour and eerie blue eyes. At a glance, he looked like your average white frat boy 10 years out of college. But up close, his skin was a kind of sickly color and each of his teeth came to a point.

 _My first goal is to blow up_ , Percy's brain supplied, _and then act like I don't know nobody_.

"I'm sorry," Percy said, tensing his legs in the restraints, "have we met?" The restraints seemed like your average leather straps, but they tightened around his ankles when he pulled. "I don't seem to remember you from any of the clubs I've gone to."

This was, of course, a distraction. The salesman may have changed his hairdo and made his face less terrifying than whatever lizard-creature thing he was going for a decade ago, but Percy recognized the glint in his eye, the sharpness of his smile, and the way the restraints on the bed started to stretch his body.

"You can't smooth-talk your way out of this one, Jackson," Procrustes said. "You've got no friends to back you up. No sword you can reach. You're at my mercy."

"You know, for a son of Poseidon, you're surprisingly gross," said Percy. "Was your mom a shark by any chance? No offense, I just can't believe we share genetic material."

Procrustes sneered. "I may not have your beauty or Chrysaor's good looks, but I manage just the same. I have my business. We were voted #27 on the top mattress stores in America 2018."

"Pretty sure torturing your target audience isn't effective marketing."

"It's the only kind of marketing there is," said Procrustes. "Now stop talking. I want to hear your screams when my beloved bed tears you apart. You don't know how long it took me to reform in Tartarus. Now, I'm going to make sure you go to the afterlife in _pieces!_ "

Procrustes slapped his hand on a button somewhere on the side of the headboard and the bed revved to life. The restraints on Percy's legs and arms pulled at his body. His muscles strained. His back ached. For a brief moment, Percy felt real fear for the first time in years.

And then two things happened.

First, Percy's lower back made a popping sound. But rather than pain, the effect was relaxing.

Second, the bed stopped stretching him. This wasn't because Procrustes had ended his torture, but because Percy had grown a lot since he was 12. The restraints hadn't stretched his body so much as restricted his movement.

"What's happening?" Procrustes snapped. He slapped the button on the bed again and again and again. "What did you do to my machine?"

"I didn't do anything," Percy said honestly. "I just fit the bed."

"No!" Procrustes shouted. "Impossible! No one fits my bed perfectly!"

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," said Percy, "but thanks for cracking my back for me."

Procrustes let out a long string of curses as he took in Percy's form on the bed. Percy hadn't been lying, he really did fully fit the bed from head to toe. Not too short, not too long. There wasn't anything for Procrustes to stretch or cut off.

"So," said Percy, "this is when you let me go and give me 30% off the sales price, right?"

"Absolutely not," Procrustes snarled. "I never take more than 10% off my mattress prices."

He stared down at Percy with his unnerving eyes, scanning his body up and down. Slowly, Procrustes' frown began to turn back into a thin smile. "Do you know, Jackson," he said, "that my name means 'The Stretcher'?"

"You mean it doesn't mean 'crusty'?" Percy asked.

Procrustes moved toward the foot of the bed and, as he did, he dragged his long, slim fingers along Percy's ribs, down his side, and over his thigh to his calf. Percy shuddered, and his smile grew. "Since you fit my bed so perfectly," he said, "I think I might have to find another way to stretch you to your limits."

"You're going to make me watch Insatiable on Netflix?"

Procrustes' fingers slid from Percy's calf back up his thigh and then

further

up

his

thigh.

"Woah there, buddy," Percy said. He tried to flinch away from Procrustes' hand, but the restraints had rendered him immobile. He couldn't wriggle or writhe away without hurting himself. He really was at Procrustes' mercy.

"I think," said Procrustes, "that it might be my turn to have some fun with you, Mr. Jackson." His fingers slid up and down the zipper of Percy's fly. "That is, if Chrysaor and his crew, or the gods for that matter, haven't sucked you dry."

His fingers slid up, up to the button on Percy's jeans. He circled it with his thumb while his other fingers tickled at the skin just beneath his navel.

Percy shuddered. He couldn't move. And just that small thing was lighting a fire in his gut that he didn't know could be lit by anything else that hadn't already lit it.

Procrustes' thumb didn't move from the button on his jeans. In a low voice between his sharp teeth, he asked, "Do you want this, Mr. Jackson?"

It was a complicated question.

Did Percy want to fuck a frat boy monster in a mattress store on 3rd Avenue in the middle of the afternoon on one of his days off? Not really.

Did Percy want to be strapped down to a bed and played with until he couldn't take it anymore? Absolutely. At least once a month. He actually had a scene planned with Ganymede next week that wasn't so different from this.

"Will you let me go afterward?" Percy asked. If he was heading for a sub drop, he didn't want death or maiming to be a possibility. Those things kind of ruined the mood.

Procrustes slid his tongue over his pointed teeth. It was an odd pale green color that made Percy wonder who his other parent really was. An eel, probably. But their father had also been known to get down and dirty with some shiny rocks. The ancient Greeks were an odd crowd.

"I will," Procrustes finally agreed. "You will leave my store alive and unharmed."

"Then sure," Percy said, because why the fuck not. In the words of John Mulaney, adult life was already so goddamn weird. "I want this. Have at me, or whatever."

Procrustes' thin smile returned, and he unbuttoned Percy's jeans.

**

"Fuck," Percy gasped. "Fuck, fuck fuck!"

When Procrustes had said he would stretch Percy to his limits, he hadn't been joking. Unlike Hermes or Apollo, Procrustes' threats weren't just for teasing and he didn't have mercy when Percy's moans turned into pleas. He was a lot like Chrysaor that way, but while Chrysaor was rough and mean and protective, Procrustes was slick and vile and vengeful.

Which meant he was determined to make each and every one of Percy's nerve-endings scream. For the last 10 minutes, Procrustes had held a wand vibrator just beneath the head of Percy's cock. He didn't move it. He didn't rub it. He just held it there.

Percy couldn't squirm away. He couldn't even shift his hips, he was stretched too tightly against the bed. He was wet. He was close. He was on fire.

Procrustes took the vibrator away.

Percy gasped with relief.

And then Procrustes pressed the vibrator just so against the side of the tip of Percy's cock. It was like a direct connection to each of his nerves. It was so sensitive it almost hurt.

"Your face is beautiful like this, Jackson," Procrustes said, his voice horribly calm. "It's always the faces I love most. They get so twisted. I wonder if I can make you cry."

"Stop," Percy gasped, "gods, just-- Move it. Take it off. Anything."

"Oh, I don't think so," Procrustes said in a sing-song voice. "I think I like my toy right where it is, thank you. You're going to take it and everything else I give you. In fact…"

Procrustes pressed a button by the end of the bed and Percy's restraints began to move. For a terrifying second, Percy thought Procrustes had gone against his word and had chosen to kill him anyway. But then he realized the restraints weren't stretching him further. They were pulling his legs further and further apart until there was a tug in the muscle of Percy's thighs.

"There," said Procrustes, smiling his nasty smile. "Much better. Except I do think we need to get rid of these jeans. They're blocking my favorite part."

He stepped away to Percy's relief, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

Percy had been in many situations like this before. He'd been tied to Chrysaor's ship and given to the crew. He'd put on a show for Apollo and Hermes in his studio apartment. He'd even been tied up and fucked by Ganymede while wearing a cow mask.

But this felt like an entirely different game. He'd never been a fan of pain play before and although nothing hurt so far, Percy had a feeling Procrustes wouldn't just be having fun with his oversensitivity. He'd be exploiting it.

Procrustes returned to the bed with a pair of long crafting scissors. He smiled thinly, winked, and said with irony, "Don't move."

He cut away at Percy's jeans like they were paper, careful not to catch his skin with the sharp blades of the scissors.

Percy watched Procrustes toss the pieces of denim to the floor. "Those were $60 jeans," he said.

"Should've bought them on sale," said Procrustes. "Now, should I keep the shirt on?" He carefully dragged the scissors up the line of Percy's t-shirt and began to circle one his nipples through the fabric. The cold metal made Percy shudder. "Or cut it off?" He pressed the tip of the scissors into the soft skin of Percy's nipple.

Percy hissed.

Procrustes' smile widened. "Oh, I know," he said.

He set the scissors down on the mattress and loomed over Percy. He placed his long, long fingers and hands over Percy's naked thighs and slid them up, up to the edge of Percy's shirt and up, up, dragging the shirt along with him until the fabric was bunched up beneath Percy's chin and armpits.

This close, Percy could see Procrustes' jagged teeth and monstrous blue eyes. He was too disturbing to look at this close, but Procrustes made no sign of moving. Instead, he pushed himself even closer.

"Chrysaor told me you were a good kisser," he said.

Percy grimaced. "I'm not kissing you."

Procrustes grinned. His long fingers skittered down Percy's chest until the pads of his thumbs circled and circled and circled his nipples.

Percy tried to squirm. He couldn't.

"Does that feel good, Jackson?" Procrustes asked. His voice was too sweet.

"Yeah," Percy admitted.

"And this?" Procrustes asked. He flicked the sides of his fingers against Percy's nipples until they hardened.

"Yeah," Percy said.

"And _this?_ " Procrustes grabbed and twisted both nipples sharply so Percy shouted in pain. And then, in that moment, Procrustes pressed his mouth against his.

Percy couldn't move away. He snorted against Procrustes' face, then whined when Procrustes' fingers turned from mean to light touches again. He let the monster's tongue into his mouth just for the sensation of a soft thumb on his chest.

Percy's tongue felt along Procrustes' sharp teeth and then along something else sharp that shouldn't be. He frowned. Something was off about Procrustes' tongue. It was long and thin, but when Percy slid his own tongue just beneath it--

Something pricked him.

Percy yanked his head back in surprise, looking up into Procrustes' spit-covered, grinning face. "What the fuck was _that?_ " He felt a little dizzy.

"Ah," said Procrustes. There was a dangerous glint in his eye. "You found my stinger."

" _Stinger?_ "

"Sometimes it's hard to get my victims to lay down on the iron bed when I need them to," Procrustes explained, "and so I need to get them to lay down another way."

"What are you talking about?" He couldn't move his toes. He couldn't move his fingers.

"I've paralyzed you," said Procrustes like it was nothing at all. "Don't worry, it should wear off in an hour. But all the better for me, now I won't have to listen to your smart mouth anymore."

"You--! Fucker!" Percy spat.

"Did you not want me to touch you while you're paralyzed?" Procrustes asked, eyebrows raised.

"Of course I do," Percy snapped. He was lisping now. He couldn't quite move his tongue. "But you could warn a guy."

"I'm warning you now," Procrustes said, eyes glittering. "I'm not going to take it easy on you. I very much plan on breaking you, Mr. Jackson."

"Do your worst," Percy challenged. And then he couldn't move his face.

**

Here was the thing.

Percy had thought he'd reached Peak Kink two months ago when Ganymede and Eros had carefully decorated him in ropes and hanged him comfortably from the ceiling of a living room in SoHo.

He had thought he'd reached Peak Kink when Ganymede placed a special gag in his mouth, covered his face with a mask, and sucked at his chest.

He had thought he'd reached Peak Kink when Chrysaor had silently asked if he wanted to be strapped down on the deck of his ship and fucked by 30 men.

Yet here he was, skin flushed and hot, his heart thrumming with more excitement than he could measure because he was tied down to a bed and couldn't move. There was no mask covering his face, no gag in his mouth. Procrustes wasn't even hot. But Percy was hard as nails.

"Perhaps paralyzing you was a good idea after all," said Procrustes. He'd retrieved some kind of toy from somewhere out of Percy's line of sight and he was taking his time rubbing the tip of it along Percy's lips. It felt like glass. "You're nice and relaxed for me, now. It'll be much easier to play with you."

He pushed the toy passed Percy's lips, sliding it over his tongue. It was definitely glass. It clacked against his teeth as Procrustes rubbed it against the inside of his cheek.

"Get this nice and wet now," Procrustes said. "It's going in your hole next."

Percy's cock twitched. He internally swore. He hoped Procrustes wasn't serious, that he had lube somewhere. But Procrustes didn't soothe him. He just slid the toy along Percy's tongue, down into Percy's throat to make him gag, and then withdrew it from his mouth.

The spit that had collected on the toy dribbled back down onto Percy's face. Procrustes flicked the toy so more of it landed on Percy's nose, his cheek. A debauched Jackson Pollock painting.

And then, just like he said, Procrustes stepped away from him to the end of the bed, to Percy's spread thighs, to Percy's hole.

"You have a lovely face, Mr. Jackson," Procrustes said. "But it's my personal opinion that you're more lovely _here_." He pressed the wet tip of the glass toy to his hole.

Percy didn't flinch or shrink back. He couldn't.

Procrustes smiled knowingly. He pulled a small bottle from his pocket. Percy couldn't see what it was, but it must've been lube. Procrustes squeezed it over the toy, which looked thicker in some places than others.

"If you don't want me to fuck you, speak up," Procrustes said with a mocking smile.

 _Bastard_ , Percy thought.

He lay there as Procrustes rubbed the tip of the toy against his hole, almost tickling him, and then pushed it inside. Percy couldn't clench around it. He couldn't tell Procrustes to slow down. The toy slid in easily, burning at first and then giving in to that sweet ache that had him texting Zeus on his lunch break in the middle of the week.

If Percy had been alone, he would have waited to adjust to the toy before moving it. It was smaller at the tip, but got larger toward the bottom like a glass dildo made of anal beads. But because Percy wasn't alone and because he had no voice and because he couldn't move, Procrustes pulled the toy back out and then shoved it back in without any time to get used to it.

 _Fuck_ , Percy internally cried.

"Your rim is so pink," Procrustes said, drawing the toy back out again. He did it slower this time, watching Percy stretch over the largest knob on the dildo. "I could do this for hours." He pushed the toy inside again, his thumb pressing against the stopper.

"I could do that, you know," said Procrustes. "Keep you here. Feed you when you can move again, then paralyze you once more. I'd keep you stored away in my back room where no one could find you. I'd tie you up real pretty and prick you again and again. You would be at my mercy. I'd cage your cock so you couldn't cum and then I would see just how many of my toys could fit inside you."

"And then," said Procrustes, pressing his thumb hard against the stopper of the toy again and again and again, "I would put you on display in a nice glass box. I'm sure many of the monsters who've made it back from Tartarus would love to see you. I'd put you in my gallery of trophies. You'd be my stuffed little doll."

Percy stared.

Procrustes frowned. "Too much?" He moved away from the bed. "No matter," he said. "I have something else that'll work just as well."

Procrustes left Percy's line of sight. There was a loud _clunk_ and the sound of rolling wheels. Percy strained his eyes to catch sight of what Procrustes was bringing over, but he couldn't move his head to see. There were more mechanical sounds. Percy felt something bump up against the end of the bed.

"I haven't had a chance to use this since I bought it a few months ago," Procrustes said. He reached forward. Percy felt him grab the stopper of the toy and tug, tug, and slowly pull the dildo out. It was tossed on the floor somewhere off to the left. "But now that I have you here," Procrustes mused, "I can't think of a better time to use it."

Percy watched out of his peripheral vision. Procrustes uncapped the lube bottle again and smeared lube across some kind of machine. Percy couldn't see it. It could have been a vacuum cleaner for all he knew.

"I'm being kind enough to use the smaller extension first," Procrustes said. "But we'll work our way up. We children of Poseidon love a good challenge, and something tells me you'd happily stretch to fit a toy."

 _What gave it away?_ Percy thought.

And then… something larger than the glass toy pressed against his hole. Percy would've tensed. He would've pushed back to let the toy in. He would've sat up to see just what Procrustes was doing and why his smile was so stupidly wide. But he lay there instead, eyes swiveling, legs splayed wide, hole wet and relaxed as the dildo slid in, in, in, in.

Procrustes wasn't moving the toy himself. That was the confusing part. The dildo pushed deep and slow, then pulled out all the way before pushing back in again. There was a quiet clanging sound each time the dildo moved and Percy realized with excitement that this wasn't just some random contraption. This was a _fucking_ _machine_.

"I do love the way your rim catches on my toys, Jackson," Procrustes said. The praise made Percy's skin flush warm. "But I'm not one for patience, you understand."

He pressed a button on a small remote in his hand and the dildo extended so it no longer slipped out of him. It went deep, deep, and then stretched him wide over the fat tip of the toy and before it thrust in deep again. Cold lube was spilled over his balls, his hole, and the toy. And then Procrustes upped the speed.

Percy let out a high, keening sound.

"There you go, Jackson," Procrustes praised. "Is that starting to feel good?" He wrapped his long, slender fingers around Percy's cock. His grip was far too light to be anything but teasing. The pads of his fingers traced along the tip and down the shaft.

Percy needed more friction. Procrustes didn't give it to him. The dildo was fucking him hard enough to give him that deep ache he loved, but it wasn't enough. Procrustes wouldn't stop smiling.

"I wonder," said Procrustes, stepping around the bed. His fingers left Percy's cock and slid up his stomach to his chest before wrapping around a nipple and twisting it gently. "Do you think you could cum without your pretty cock being touched?"

Percy huffed. He knew he couldn't. He'd tried before.

Procrustes held up the remote to his face. "I have a challenge for you, Mr. Jackson. If you can cum in the next two minutes, I'll set you free with 10% off on your purchase of a mattress. But if you can't cum in the next two minutes…" He leaned down close to Percy's ear and nipped his ear lobe. "I get to double-stuff you."

Without warning, Procrustes pressed a button on the machine's remote and the dildo started to fuck faster. The low ache in Percy's gut was constant now. His cock dripped against his stomach.

Procrustes dipped his tongue in Percy's ear. "Timer's on, Jackson."

The worst part about it was that Percy could've cum in those two minutes. Procrustes' slender fingers were gently tweaking his nipples while the fucking machine pounded him. But because he couldn't tense his muscles and because Procrustes kept pushing his nastyass tongue into his ear, Percy couldn't get his body to hurdle over the edge fast enough.

But secretly, Percy didn't mind losing the challenge. He'd use multiple toys before in the comfort of his own room so he wasn't freaked out by the thought of an extra stretch. Based on how Procrustes used the fucking machine, Percy trusted that his awful half-brother knew to use enough lube so as not to hurt him.

Luckily, he was right. His brothers were formidable monsters, but they knew how to give a good time.

Procrustes threatened punishment and torture, but he routinely made sure Percy felt good and that he was never in pain. When the time came for the double penetration, he used more than enough lube and even slowly inserted the toy himself before mounting it on the machine.

And then, as if he knew exactly how to itch the scratch that was Percy's kinks, Procrustes freed Percy's feet from where the bed had restrained him and carefully pulled his legs up, up. He restrained them again so Percy's feet were by his head.

"There we go," Procrustes said with his wicked smile. "Can't have you hiding that show between your legs."

Percy huffed through his nose. He watched as Procrustes untied his hands and then tugged his arms down so they were restrained to the posts where his feet had been tied just moments before. It was the most he'd ever been on display.

He liked it.

"Now," said Procrustes, stepping away to view his work.

His strange blue eyes dragged over Percy's body like he couldn't settle on just one place to look. Percy let him look, watching his face. He always did like it when gods and monsters appreciated his body, especially the places he didn't often show in public.

"I think it's about time we finish up here, don't you?" Procrustes said. He held up the small remote to turn on the machine. He said, "Cum when you can." And then he pressed the button.

**

The thing was this: Procrustes didn't stay.

Percy had expected the monster to watch him, toy with him, or suck him off. Something to help him reach his end goal. But Procrustes didn't.

Instead, he swung the little remote around his finger after the machine started up and Percy let out a helpless grunt. The one dildo was a stretch enough, but with two it was almost unbearable. One of the toys moved faster than the other, pummeling him without care, while the other thrust slow and deep, nudging at a good spot Percy couldn't remember hitting before.

"Well," said Procrustes, "I have a little more work to do in my office before I close up for lunch. I'll let you take care of the rest. Holler if you hear any customers come in, won't you?"

Percy flushed hot down to his toes. He tried to protest, but he couldn't open his mouth. He could only grunt, which Procrustes replied with a grin.

"Good to see you can handle it," Procrustes said. "I'll be back for you."

He tossed the small remote onto the bed just out of Percy's reach.

And then he left.

He _left_.

Hot shame flooded Percy's face. He relished in it. Would customers really come in or was Procrustes bluffing? He wanted customers to come in, to see him like this. He didn't want them to come in. He wanted to hide.

Percy was slowly regaining movement in his fingers and toes, but it wasn't enough to wiggle. He was at the mercy of the ropes and the machine as the toys fucked, fucked, fucked into him.

The slow-thrusting dildo that was hitting that spot was starting to feel painfully good, the same way Procrustes' fingers had on his cock when he was stroking over and over and over one spot relentlessly. But just like Procrustes' fingers, the toy didn't give him enough friction. Percy needed it to go hard and fast like the other dildo, but it remained a constant tease.

Percy let out a quiet, frustrated, tearful sound.

It felt like it had been five minutes. It felt like it had been an hour.

Procrustes didn't come back.

Percy stared up at the ceiling. He stared down at his own cock hard and wet against his stomach. He stared at the remote beside his hand. He tried to move his pinky finger to reach it, but his hand wouldn't move.

He wanted to cum. He wanted to cum so bad.

Percy had just about resigned himself to his fate until Procrustes returned when the fucking machine did something odd. It slowed down for a moment and then slowed some more before coming to a complete stop.

Percy blinked down at the machine, curious. Had its batteries died?

And then, all at once, the speed of the toys reversed. The dildo that had been hammering away at his hole slowed down with deep, leisurely strokes. And the dildo that had been teasing his prostate or some other area went _hard_.

Percy choked in surprise. He tried to move. He couldn't. He tried to call out. He couldn't. The machine went at him and at him and at him.

Percy had wanted to cum and now here his orgasm was hurtling toward him and he couldn't run away from it. He couldn't even defend himself against it.

He managed to let out a strangled, " _Plea--!_ "

His body flushed hot. Everything was good good good. And then he plummeted victoriously with a hard shudder. He shuddered again. Cum dribbled across his chest and stomach. Percy moaned. He was able to smile, regaining a little bit of movement while his body shivered with post-orgasm sensitivity.

And then the smile was gone. Because the machine didn't stop. The dildo Percy had wanted to go faster kept going. It was so good it hurt. He tried to squirm away, to reach the remote.

"Procru--!" Percy tried to shout. It was too much. He couldn't take it. He was being made to take it.

 _I think I might have to find another way to stretch you to your limits_ , Procrustes had said. And so he had.

Percy was forced into two more orgasms before Procrustes came back.

**

"There, there," Procrustes said, because monsters, even those that were children of Poseidon, were terrible at aftercare. He was patting Percy on the head with his spindly hand while Percy drank a gross cup of coffee with too many packets of sugar in it.

He was back in his clothes standing by the entrance to the store with a fuzzy blanket around his shoulders that had a suspicious stain on it. Percy tried not to focus on it or the uncomfortable feeling of ointment between his asscheeks.

"Please stop touching me," Percy muttered. He'd already texted Ganymede to pick him up so he could have some quality comfort before he sub-dropped. He didn't need his half-brother's spaghetti fingers in his hair after cumming three times.

"I made good on my promise," Procrustes noted, moving his hand away.

Percy snorted. "You did."

"Thank you for my vengeance."

Percy's face did something complicated. Finally, he said, "The next time I see you, I'm going to kill you. Just a heads up."

Procrustes gave him a yellow, toothy smile. "Not," he said, "before I get you first."

It wasn't the tender goodbye from Chrysaor's ship, but Percy would take it. His phone vibrated from Ganymede's number and he took the blanket off his shoulders, handing it to Procrustes.

"Well, uh," he said. "Until next time, then."

"Until your death," Procrustes corrected.

"Right. Oh!" Percy turned after he stepped out the door, tapping on the glass to get Procrustes' attention. Procrustes met his gaze and Percy gave his best shit-eating grin. "Do I still get that 10% off?" he asked.

Procrustes reached for the door handle and for a second Percy thought he really was going to let him back into the store. But then-- _Flick!_

 _Sorry!_ read a sign in big red letters _. We're CLOSED!_

**Author's Note:**

> :')


End file.
